Chris Christie Is the Best Politician in America and His Masterful Bridge-gate Press Conference Proved It

Governor Christie is the best politician in the country, and today’s press conference regarding September’s arbitrary and crippling lane closures on the George Washington Bridge was a masterclass in the charm offensive, emotional manipulation, and self-presentation. First of all, traffic studies—like those Christie staffers invented in order to snarl traffic in Fort Lee—are the most boring thing on the planet, of that Christie is sure. Throughout the press conference, Christie repeatedly denied expertise in traffic studies. “I don’t know what makes a legitimate traffic study,” he told reporters. “I probably wouldn’t know a traffic study if I tripped over it.” Chris Christie isn’t some kind of fancy nerd—he’s a guy, just like you, who hates traffic!

Guys Like You™ are loyal, right? Christie is loyal, too. According to his statement of apology, four weeks ago he gave his staff the opportunity to explain the inexplicable lane foreclosure. That staff—that staff he trusted!—lied to him, informing the governor that his administration had nothing to do with the so-called traffic study and its subsequent gridlock.

What’s a loyal guy to do, when he’s duped by his friends? He’s not paranoid like Richard Nixon or Dick Cheney or any of these other politicians (the word “politicians” should be said with a sneer): when people tell Christie something, he believes it. “I am heartbroken that someone I permitted to be in that circle of trust for the past five years betrayed that trust,” he said.

You might remember a time when you were lied to by your friends and how sad you felt. Remember that time your brother-in-law asked to borrow the car and didn’t tell you about the parking ticket he received? That’s exactly how Christie feels, big guy. Here, let Christie buy you a cold one. “I’m sad,” Christie said, “I don’t know the ‘stages of grief’ in exact order.” You see? He’s not some traffic engineer, and he doesn't have a psychology side-business, either.

With candor and grace and calm, Christie spoke for nearly two hours—more on that tremendous length in just a second—about how badly you can get hurt when you trust people. Is there anything more relatable? Anything more understandable? Anything more sympathetic? Christie, betting that there was not, took questions that allowed him to express his sadness over and over again, each response allowing him to recast himself from vengeful monster to a trusting and honest man who was, like the residents of Fort Lee, a mere victim in this awful ordeal. No, he said that beer was on him. Put your wallet away, chief.

And, almost as importantly, in answering two hours’ worth of questions, Christie seemed transparent and open. He didn’t actually say anything all that transparent—the question of whether deputy chief of staff Bridget Kelly had the authority to implement a “traffic study” without permission from the governor was skirted, as was why she sought revenge on Fort Lee if the town’s mayor was, according to Christie, not on his office’s endorsement radar—but it seemed transparent because there were so many words. It’s like how SAT essay questions that are the longest receive higher scores than shorter, superior essays. You just write a lot and boom! You’re just as good as that sucker who actually read Moby-Dick.

At the beginning of the presser, reporters and bloggers filled America’s Twitter streams with questions about what Christie knew about the revenge-traffic-jam and when he knew it. At the end of the press conference, reporters and bloggers filled America’s Twitter steams with complaints and quips about the length of Christie’s question-and-answer session. America has things to do, errands to run, snow to shovel! The medium had eclipsed the message, and Christie emerged as the People’s Hero Determined to Get to the Bottom of This. The Christie-as-bully story had been snarled.